


Our Nightly Sessions

by morphenomenal



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dark, Dreams and Nightmares, Fingerfucking, Gratuitous Smut, Hand Jobs, Heavy Angst, M/M, Minor Violence, Molestation, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Orgasm Denial, Possessive Behavior, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-15 16:54:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2236443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morphenomenal/pseuds/morphenomenal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryuuhou’s calloused hands glided down Koujaku’s backside. Koujaku held his breath as a pair of lips pressed briefly against his chest.</p><p>“My masterpiece.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Nightly Sessions

**Author's Note:**

> Here are some awesome pics that heavily inspired this fic:  
> [1](http://steppingoncellphones.tumblr.com/post/58518905405), [2](http://us-ui.tumblr.com/post/86585568987), [3](http://slut-dere.tumblr.com/post/70565334466/anonymous-asked-oh-my-god-please-draw-some), [4](http://capriciousgentleman.tumblr.com/post/75555771405/drawing-nsfw-is-a-stress-relief), [5](http://trashbien.tumblr.com/post/61842515056), and [6](http://seisans.tumblr.com/post/56009896287).
> 
> If there's anything else that you feel needs to be tagged just let me know!

“Disrobe.”

Chills traveled along Koujaku's spine at the single worded demand. Narrowed dark blue eyes had an indescribable emotion swarming in them. Dark pools swallowed Koujaku up in a violent whirlpool, dragging him down into the depths of the deep blue sea. Lowering his head, Koujaku carefully averted his gaze elsewhere (avoid his eyes, avoid his gaze, avoid everything) while he slowly undid his obi. His fingers curled into the folds of his kimono, hesitant on proceeding further. Using a tugging motion, the red fabric slid down his shoulders and gathered at his forearms. One more swift tug would be all it took for it to fall.  

The tattoo artist’s stare was unrelenting. Begrudgingly, Koujaku let his kimono fall soundlessly onto the tatami floors. Koujaku rubbed his palms together, unable to fight off the immediate restlessness engulfing him. Ryuuhou stared at him, as if he weren’t a living breathing person but a brand new toy to play with. 

When his father entrusted him in Ryuuhou’s care, the man’s facial features had contorted into a wide catlike grin. Koujaku couldn’t suppress the eerie expression from his head. It was permanently seared into his thoughts, like his skin would be seared with the ink for a yakuza heir. This man wasn’t normal. He couldn’t be alone with him but he bowed his head and obeyed his father’s wishes.  

Ryuuhou pointedly stared at Koujaku’s undergarments.  

“Disrobe,” Ryuuhou repeated, using what he must have thought was a soothing tone. It had the opposite affect for Koujaku. It rattled him. 

With trembling hands, Koujaku yanked his underwear down past his hips and stepped out of the waistband. He stood bare in front of Ryuuhou. The man drank in his nude body with a chilling smirk and beckoned Koujaku forward. Swallowing, Koujaku tentatively closed the small distance between them. When he stood before him, Ryuuhou wasted no time getting his hands on him. Ryuuhou ran his palms over his soft flesh, using an uncharacteristically gentle touch. Goosebumps rose over Koujaku’s arms from his touches. Nausea washed over him in fast waves, he swallowed down nothing, hoping that would be enough to prevent him from throwing up. Though, it wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing if he did (vomit would be a good look for Ryuuhou, he was sure of that). Koujaku stepped forward as Ryuuhou pulled him closer. His crotch was just at Ryuuhou’s eye level and the man’s breaths ghosted over his flaccid cock.  

“W-What are you doing?” Koujaku stammered quietly; his voice barely above a whisper. 

He cursed the tremor he failed to conceal. He needed to show confidence, that this man did not daunt him in any way. He refused to let it show that Ryuuhou bothered him.  

“I’m looking over my canvas,” Ryuuhou chuckled and he shifted onto his knees, resting his cheek against Koujaku’s lower stomach. Koujaku watched, his entire body stiff as a rod, as Ryuuhou nestled his skin with his nose and inhaled his scent.  

Ryuuhou’s calloused hands glided down Koujaku’s backside and stopped to palm his buttocks. Koujaku held his breath as a pair of lips pressed briefly against his chest.  

“My masterpiece.” 

* * *

Pain was something Koujaku was well acquainted with.  

He’d received his share of bad injuries. Kids got into fights - to boast how much strength their developing bodies already possessed or, in his case, to protect someone close to them - and they hurt each other. Adults could inflict pain as well. Sometimes, it hurt much worse than anything he’d ever gotten from someone his own age. His mother was well acquainted with his father’s fists and, to protect his mother, so was he.  

Other times, accidents happened. He’d fallen down due to his own clumsiness or from barely dodging a well-placed kick or sloppy punch.

He was used to getting hurt.

There was a time he’d twisted his ankle. Koujaku couldn’t remember how he’d done it or why. It was swollen for days, his ankle an angry red with spots of purple and green. His mother insisted he keep off of his feet until the swelling went down. Though he wasn’t allowed to play outside, Aoba would often visit him. Being bedridden wasn’t so bad with Aoba’s company. He spent so much time together with Aoba; his healing went by in a flash. Briefly, he toyed with the idea of breaking a leg or maybe an arm – anything to be able to be with Aoba, but his mother fretted over him terribly and he refused to put her through that pain again.  

None of the pain Koujaku suffered from in the past could compare to the excruciating agony coursing throughout his body right now. Ryuuhou’s needle played over and over in a sporadic pattern, seeping ink into Koujaku’s skin. The insistent stinging only grew worse after every minute swipe. Koujaku’s vision blurred with tears he refused to shed.  

Koujaku was splayed onto his stomach, lying face down, a futon underneath him. His nails dig deep into his forearm, but those were marks that would fade away. Ryuuhou’s marks were permanent. He’d bit the inside of his cheek so hard, he tasted the metallic tang of blood on his tongue. He struggled to sniffle quietly and to keep his tears at bay. Koujaku buried his face into the crook of his arm, his back quivering as he swallowed down his sobs. 

Ryuuhou pushed Koujaku’s kimono down, exposing more of his lower back. Koujaku shivered from the coolness of the air touching him. It did little to soothe the excruciating pain but it was a distraction, no matter how small, from Ryuuhou’s needle. 

“Let’s take a break.”  

In a daze, Koujaku responded with a jerky nod. A break would be nice. But he didn’t have a chance to relax. The tattoo artist’s hands hadn’t left his body. Ryuuhou’s palm slid down his back. His skin was too tender, even the briefest touches were painful. Ryuuhou cupped one of his ass cheeks, squeezing the handful of flesh.  

Koujaku tensed. He didn’t ask for this. He didn’t _want_ that.  

His father had told Ryuuhou to tattoo his body and to do nothing else. He hadn’t heard his father’s exact words, he had kept his focus on the solid weight of his mother's hand on his own, but he was sure that was the gist of it.  

Ryuuhou shushed him, cooing something that Koujaku can’t focus on.  

There was a slight clatter, Ryuuhou had set his needle down, and his free hand dipped down to Koujaku’s crack. Ryuuhou prodded between his cheeks, his fingertip tracing over his hole. Koujaku exhaled through his nostrils. He wouldn’t panic, he refused, but his heart pounded loudly in his ears.  

“Calm down,” Ryuuhou said, giving his cheek another firm squeeze.  

“I _am_ calm,” Koujaku snapped back and sputtered an expletive as a teardrop rolled down his cheek. He slapped at Ryuuhou’s hand holding him but it did nothing to ease his grip. “Are we done?” 

“We’ve just started,” he clicked his tongue, disappointment heavy in his tone. “We have a long session ahead of us.”  

Koujaku wiped the moisture from his eyes into his sleeve. “Then hurry up.”  

* * *

Koujaku didn’t understand.

He had arrived for his next tattoo session at the agreed time but Ryuuhou hadn’t done anything yet. Not that Koujaku minded, his body was still sore and exhausted from their very first session. Ryuuhou had instructed that he not sleep on or put much pressure on his back, which he obliged the best he could. He twist and turned while he slept, startling awake with a scream trapped in his throat whenever he landed on his back. Koujaku had looked at what the older man had done to his back. From what he could see in the mirror, Ryuuhou had created the beginnings of intricate flower petals but the design was mostly obscured by the dried blood left and torn skin.  

Ryuuhou told Koujaku to get undressed and to get on his hands and knees. Koujaku did as he was told. He shifted the weight of his feet, before he slowly sank down, landed on his knees and supported himself up with his arms. He can feel Ryuuhou’s eyes on him. His heavy gaze had been fixated on his body for far too long.

Warily, Koujaku looked back to see what Ryuuhou was doing behind him.  

The older man’s lips were turned up into a smirk. There was a glint that flashed in his eyes that didn’t sit well with Koujaku. When Ryuuhou finally moved, Koujaku wasn’t sure if he was relieved or frightened. Ryuuhou settled down behind him, his gloved fingers spread Koujaku’s cheeks apart and Kouaku whipped forward. A short laugh grated Koujaku’s ears. Koujaku grounded his teeth together at the first touch of Ryuuhou prodding him again.  

A startled yelp came from Koujaku when Ryuuhou nipped at his cheek. “W-What are you –” 

Ryuuhou laved the bite with his tongue. “I’m looking at my canvas.” 

“I don’t believe you,” Koujaku growled, his fingers biting into the floor mats. 

* * *

Hanging his head down, Koujaku lost count of how long he’d been holding himself up in this position. It seemed to be one of Ryuuhou’s preferred positions while he worked. The flowers had expanded over his back. There was a heavy amount of detail to each petal that Koujaku couldn’t help but begrudgingly admired. No amount of pain he endured was worth the process to get such impressive results. Koujaku’s kneecaps and arms burned, he couldn’t hold himself up like this forever, but he wouldn’t show how much discomfort he was in. If he had to, he’d keep himself upright for hours. Ryuuhou relished whatever pain Koujaku was in, whether he was the one administering the pain or not. 

Thankfully, his kimono was still on his body. Only his back was shown to the tattoo artist. As Koujaku listened to the unsettling silence in the room, he became painfully aware of every little movement Ryuuhou made. The older man was otherwise silent, save for the little noises he’d make whenever he’d move to mumble something for his ears only. Sharp stinging jolts pinched Koujaku’s nerves from Ryuuhou’s needle.  

Something pressed against his backside. He was so startled that his arms nearly gave out on him. Cursing, Koujaku righted himself and kept perfectly still. His arms shook and his body screamed at Koujaku that he was already at his limit, but he pushed through it - the tattoo was worse than the pain thrumming through his body. The pressure behind him became more insistent as Ryuuhou continued. Unfamiliar warmth was bumping into Koujaku over and over again. It was becoming difficult to ignore it.  

Ryuuhou’s breathing was becoming louder, harsher, almost frantic. The needle landed on the floor with a light thud. Koujaku wouldn’t have noticed it if his face wasn’t suddenly slammed into the floor and the needle hadn’t almost implanted itself in his eye socket. A harsh grip clamped onto Koujaku’s hips and Ryuuhou grinded against him. Koujaku could hear soft little breathy moans coming from the older man above him.  

“W-what -” 

When Ryuuhou stilled, his grip tightening ever-so-slightly, he released a heavy sigh. Koujaku stayed where he was on the floor, his chest still tender from the intricate pattern Ryuuhou placed on him.  

Ryuuhou picked up the needle and tapped Koujaku in the ribs with it. “Get up.”  

Those two words were hoarse. Ryuuhou's voice had changed, had gotten coarser, lower, and husky. Koujaku had never heard the man sound so . . . frazzled. Koujaku hoisted himself back to his previous position. Whatever had happened appeared to be Ryuuhou in a significantly better mood – not that there was a damper to the man’s manners earlier – that he began to hum a cheerful tune.  

* * *

Today, Ryuuhou was going to ink his ankle. The tattoo would spread from his ankle to his thigh. Ryuuhou informed him today’s session would end with him barely starting on the calf portion for this particular design. Koujaku hid behind his forearm. He didn’t know how or why he had to have his undergarments removed. Ryuuhou wouldn’t be going anywhere near his neither regions, but the man was insistent with his demands, threatening that if he didn’t hurry up he’d have no choice but to bring in his father. Ever since this had started, his father hadn’t gone anywhere near his mother - he couldn’t risk anything happening to her. So, in the end, he relented. 

Koujaku squirmed, both from the pain and the discomfort of exposing himself to Ryuuhou once more. He risked a glance at the distrustful bastard, lifting his arm to peer down at him. Ryuuhou was settled between his legs. He kept Koujaku’s left leg bent with his hand cupping his thigh, keeping the limb in place. Despite wearing gloves, Koujaku could feel Ryuuhou’s heat seep through the thin material and onto his skin. There wasn’t a single subtle bone in the older man’s body as he shamelessly gazed down at Koujaku’s crotch. Koujaku retreated behind his arms again, shuddering in disgust at the lustful gleam in Ryuuhou’s eyes. He tried to shut his legs and turn away from him, but this only provoked Ryuuhou into tightening his grip, his covered fingertips scratching at his flesh.  

He hadn’t started yet. Koujaku could never prepare himself, either mentally or physically, when Ryuuhou would decide to start working. Ryuuhou wouldn’t say anything to him, always leapt right into things. No gentleness or reassurance, although those were things Koujaku wouldn’t dare to associate with the perverted filth. He wouldn’t let Koujaku expect the burst of pain. The man seemed to get off on his pained moans, his muffled cries, and his unshed tears. His pupils would dilate, his cheeks would fill with blood, his breaths would come out in harsh pants, and he’d bare his teeth in a wide cheeky grin. He wanted to eat him alive, but he wouldn’t go beyond the touches required for the tattoos. That, at least, was something Koujaku was thankful for.  

“Are you going to do something?” Koujaku retorted irritably. He wanted to leave as soon as possible. Staying longer with Ryuuhou than necessary was absolutely not an option.  

Ryuuhou wrapped Koujaku’s legs around his waist. He cupped Koujaku’s knobby knees, before sliding his hands down his thighs and pressing his fingertips into Koujaku’s hips. 

Koujaku’s eyes broadened. “W-what –”  

A strained gasp seized Koujaku’s throat.  

Ryuuhou gripped his limp cock, easily taking the entire length into his palm. He was a growing boy. His body would change and grow, his voice would deepen, everything would change, but his cock was completely encased in Ryuuhou’s hand.

Puberty pumped Koujaku’s body full of hormones. He’d wake up; startled by the strange dreams his subconscious would conjure, and frantically clean ruined sheets before his mother or anyone else woke up. It took him weeks to gather the courage to slip his hand down his underwear to take care of himself. Of course, once it was explained to him – the birds and bees (whatever that meant) – Koujaku understood that it was perfectly natural to touch oneself.  

No one else had ever touched him like this. 

He didn’t want _Ryuuhou_ , this piece of shit, to touch him like this. 

Koujaku swatted at Ryuuhou, hitting his chest, demanding he release him – he had no right touching him like this – but all of his efforts earned him a highly amused chuckle. For the longest time, Ryuuhou didn’t move, simply kept a solid hold onto his cock. It was almost as if he was waiting, ever so patiently, for him to react, as if he was going to feed off of his reactions.  

Koujaku’s heart was pounding against his ribcage, beating hard and fast, as if threatening to burst through his chest. His breathing picked up considerably. _Keep calm, keep calm._ He wrapped both of his hands around Ryuuhou’s wrist and ordered him to stop. His voice cracked at his demands, further showing how very young and terrified he was. Ryuuhou dragged his tongue over his lower lip before he swooped downwards. Koujaku pressed himself flat onto the floorboards, desperate to evade Ryuuhou’s gaze. The older man laughed; his laughter light and diverted, and dropped his forehead against Koujaku’s.  

“I’m doing something, aren’t I?”  

Then, Ryuuhou brought his hand up and down and up and down. He went slowly, pumping his cock with light strokes, squeezing on the upstroke and then squeezing on the way down. It was dry, painful, and the friction of Ryuuhou’s glove pinched the tender flesh. Koujaku’s desperate cries and frantic thoughts didn’t stop his body from reacting to Ryuuhou. His dick hardened in his hand, enjoying the attention despite his brain screeching _no_. Koujaku pounded against Ryuuhou’s chest, screaming, _pleading_ for him to stop. His voice was unrecognizable to his ears, the desperation in his tone unkind.  

Ryuuhou’s laughter and lips smothered his cries, his tongue probed into his mouth, the odd sensation shocking Koujaku further. Koujaku bit down as Ryuuhou dragged him up for another kiss. Blood smeared over his and Ryuuhou’s lips like lipstick. The action spurred Ryuuhou, his slick red lips contorted into a wicked upward curve. His strokes quickened, hard and fast, until Koujaku reached a relatively quickly climax. Koujaku’s body convulsed, a wrecked moan ripped from his throat, as his back arched and he came harder than he ever had before.  

While he worked on gaining his breath, the older man brought his palm up to look, almost admire, at Koujaku’s cum spread over his glove. 

Through his tears, Koujaku gritted his teeth as Ryuuhou picked up the needle and finally started the session. 

* * *

He wouldn’t go back.  

He didn’t want to go back for another session. He didn’t want Ryuuhou to keep drawing over his skin. He didn’t want him to place his filthy hands on him. No one would make him go. Not his father or his mother. Neither of them could do anything to convince him to go back to that wretched man. He’d stand by his decision. He wouldn’t budge.  

However, his newfound determination quickly diminished, thanks to his father, until there was nothing left. His mother had stood by his father’s side, her cheek swollen and purple and heavy eyeshadow to conceal a black eye. She smiled at Koujaku, though it didn’t reach her eyes, and Koujaku was consumed with guilt. How could he be so selfish?  

On unsteady feet, Koujaku padded down the corridor, taking his time to reach where the tattoo artist was staying. He was terribly late for their appointment, not that he cared if he kept the man waiting. He stood in front of the room Ryuuhou was staying and slid the door aside. 

Sitting in the middle of the room was Ryuuhou, waiting for him. Koujaku stepped inside, closing the door behind him soundlessly. He stayed rooted to his spot, distrustfully eying the older man. As Ryuuhou began to get up, Koujaku bolted for the closest corner of the room. He curled into a ball, refusing to undress and to do anything else Ryuuhou asked from him. 

“We won’t be doing anything today.” 

Koujaku wasn’t assured by Ryuuhou. Not at all. Surely, he was meant to be comforting but he doubts that was what he was aiming for. Warily, Koujaku peered over his knees, glancing at Ryuuhou. “… We won’t?” 

Ryuuhou shook his head. “We won’t.” 

He didn't trust him. 

“I can leave then?” 

“You can,” Ryuuhou confirmed. “Once we spend a little time together.” 

“I don’t have to do _anything_ with you,” Koujaku spat out.  

Ryuuhou didn’t voice a reply, instead he fetched something from the table. He crouched in front of Koujaku, offering him a glass of water and a plate of one of his favorite snacks. Koujaku smacked his lips together, hesitantly eyeing Ryuuhou’s peace offering. He hadn’t eaten dinner last night, claiming he’d come down with a horrible stomachache and, this morning, had skipped breakfast. His empty stomach rumbled, impatiently waiting for some sustenance. His pride could wait until after he filled his stomach.  

Koujaku ate quietly, utilizing polite table manners, and taking small sips of water. He refrained from shoveling everything into his mouth, anything to help speed up the process, so he could leave. Ryuuhou remained crouched before him, wordlessly watching Koujaku eat with a pleased smile. The smile didn’t fit the man's face. It looked wrong, as if it had been drawn or stitched on. 

After finishing the last piece, Koujaku placed the plate and empty glass onto the floor, and promptly excused himself. He took one step forward, somehow lost his footing, and stumbled gracelessly, nearly face planting on the floor. Koujaku slapped his hand onto the wall, fingers scraping for purchase, to keep from collapsing.  

The room had gotten really hot. Not too long ago, the temperate was fairly moderate, almost bordering on cold. Out of nowhere, an unknown heat had risen and had taken over the room. Koujaku’s knees wobbled uncontrollably, he swayed on his feet but couldn’t find purchase on the wall. His clothes had suddenly shrunken, as if it were fusing onto his skin.  

He felt hot, so unbearably hot. _Am I on fire?_ Bead of sweat rolled down his forehead, Koujaku winced as some moisture streaked into his eye. He was completely drenched in sweat.  

“Are you all right, Koujaku?” Ryuuhou’s concern wasn’t by any means genuine. Even through his sudden haze, he could tell. “You don’t look so good. Maybe you should lie down.” 

Koujaku shook his head. The last thing he would do was willing stay in the same room as this man. “I’m leaving now.” 

He couldn’t stay here.  

He had to go. The exit wasn’t too far. If his legs would cooperate he could out of Ryuuhou’s grasps within minutes. He pushed himself off the wall, glaring at his unresponsive feet. A sudden heavy weight had fallen on him, making it near impossible for him to move. Nonetheless, Koujaku persevered, sweat dripped down his chin as he struggled to lift his foot. Simple motor functions were no longer so simple. Without the support of the wall, Koujaku fell to the floor, his vision blurring and his throat dry. Desperation would’ve shaken him, to drive him back up – he wasn’t safe here, Ryuuhou was still here, and if he stayed any longer – Koujaku groaned raggedly, his arms reaching out to drag himself to the door. He was moving, he was sure of it, the way out was just in arm’s reach. 

Blackness clouded his vision.  

The next time he opened his eyes, his clothes were strewn over the floor and he was being pulled onto Ryuuhou’s lap. Weakly protesting, Koujaku tried to get up but it was no use. His legs wouldn’t listen to him. Ryuuhou pressed fiery kisses to his throat, trailing brief warm pecks down to his collarbone. His hand caressed his skin, paying particular attention to the parts he elaborately inked. Each and every one of Ryuuhou’s touches burned Koujaku, every little touch hurt but he couldn’t shy away from his fingers or his mouth. Suddenly, he wasn’t all that mindful about his touch. His skin singed whenever he touched, but he felt a loss whenever his hands were no longer following along his body. 

Koujaku whined lowly, the needy noise catching him off guard - he never sounded like that, didn’t even know he was capable of making such a deplorable noise. He squirmed in Ryuuhou’s lap. He was hard, so painfully hard that his cock ached between his legs. Koujaku was torn between crying or jerking himself off. Or doing both at the same time. His dick was already oozing with pre-come, despite not having touched himself once. Ryuuhou rubbed the pad of his thumb along Koujaku’s lower lip. He rested two fingers on his chin before sliding the digits into his mouth.  

Without a second thought, Koujaku suckled on them as Ryuuhou pressed against his tongue. He slid them in and out, touched every nook and crevice of his mouth. Koujaku couldn’t stop sucking on Ryuuhou’s fingers, drawing them back in and whining whenever Ryuuhou retracted them to smother his noise with a deep press of his lips. He sucked and sucked, clamping down on Ryuuhou’s wrist, while he swallowed down three fingers and quietly gagged on them as they nudged the back of his throat. 

Ryuuhou pried Koujaku’s mouth open, withdrawing his fingers and awarding Koujaku by nipping the underside of his jaw. He trailed his fingers down Koujaku’s quivering body, leaving a slick line of spit behind him. His wet digits dipped between his cheeks, teasing at his entrance. Koujaku whimpered at Ryuuhou’s steady push, loudly gasping at the thick intrusion. He slipped past the ring of muscle, going against the resistance, and was buried deep to his knuckles. Ryuuhou started to scissor his fingers inside of him, groping his inner walls, working on loosening him nicely.  

Koujaku gripped at Ryuuhou’s arms, dropping his forehead onto his shoulder. He couldn't keep quiet. It felt different. Nothing at all like the first time Ryuuhou had put something inside him. It still hurt, felt like he was being ripped in half . . . but it wasn’t so bad that he couldn't fuck himself onto Ryuuhou's fingers. He didn’t know how he ended up sprawled in front of Ryuuhou with his ass in the air, holding himself open for Ryuuhou to effortlessly finger fuck him. Koujaku clawed at the floor boards, rising his hips, awkwardly angling his thrusts back to find that spot. Stars burst beneath his eyelids as Ryuuhou bumped his fingers against it.  

He was being lifted by his arms, invisible strings tugging up his body as if he was a lifeless marionette. Something moist and slippery was rubbing his backside. Whatever it was, it was big, so much bigger than fingers. Ryuuhou positioned Koujaku just so, he released his legs, letting gravity sink him down onto that big, warm, something. Koujaku gritted his teeth, he was getting speared apart and it hurt. His body welcomed the intrusion effortlessly, he lifted his hips up in a messy attempt to escape. The door was close. He could still make it out. The thickness slipped out of him, his hole ached at the loss. Koujaku slumped onto the floor, extending his arm out in front of him for the doorknob. 

A hand grasped his ankle, he was tugging him back, away from the exit.  

“No,” Koujaku groans, flailing his leg as best as he could to shake him off. “N-No,” he rasped, thumping his hand onto the ground. “Get away.” 

It was no use.  

He was settled back against the older man. Thickness prodded between his cheeks, threatening to plunge inside him. There was a steady push, Koujaku couldn’t breathe - something clamped around his throat, but it wasn’t Ryuuhou choking him - and a thickness filled him up once again. The unwanted intrusion hurt slightly less this time but it wasn’t pleasant.  

Ryuuhou chuckled, his puffs of breaths ticking his moist neck. “Where are you going?” he murmured, licking a stripe onto neck. Koujaku groaned, trying to lean away. It was too warm, the man’s tongue wasn’t making it any better. “Don’t you want to stay here with me?”  

He felt full, so full.  

He wanted it out.  

“Get it out,” Koujaku slurred. “Get... it... out...”  

“You don’t really mean that, do you?” Ryuuhou cooed. “I can tell you like spending time with me. You enjoy these little sessions almost as much as I do.”  

“Wrong,” he hiccuped. “You’re wrong.” 

Ryuuhou hooked his hands under his thighs, hoisting him upwards until there was nothing of the thickness left. He loosened his hold ever-so-slightly, so Koujaku dropped back down, instantly being filled up again. Koujaku wailed at the abruptness, the spark of pleasure spiking along his spine. He scratched at Ryuuhou’s back, the man was still fully clothed. Once again, he was being lifted like a baby being jousted about, only to be dropped back down. Ryuuhou repeated this action several times, he gauged Koujaku’s reactions, his smirk widening as his features twisted, unable to hide the ecstasy he was experiencing.  

He thrust up into Koujaku’s slick heat, shuddering and hissing at the tight warmth enveloping his cock. “So tight,” he moaned, affectionately stroking his hair. It was phony. A pathetic mimicry of something he's mother had done for him so many times. “So tight for me. What a good boy.” 

Biting down a whimper, Koujaku looped his arms tightly around Ryuuhou - terrified to take hold of himself - he was becoming hysterical, emotions overwhelming him, and a heat settling low in his belly. Koujaku wasn’t sure what he was begging for or why whatever Ryuuhou was doing to him wasn’t enough. Sure enough, Koujaku was hopping up and down onto the thickness filling him, going at a quick pace. Ryuuhou had lain down, propping himself upright on his elbows, watching Koujaku with hooded eyes.  

“How does it feel?” 

Koujaku fisted Ryuuhou’s kimono, roughly taking handfuls of the fabric. He gasped brokenly as he slammed down on what must’ve been the right spot. His eyelids fluttered, his thighs quivered, and his toes curled. He rolled his hips, guiding the thickness into that spot over and over. “A-Ah,” he groaned. He needed more, more, more. He was getting close, so close. 

Ryuuhou squeezed Koujaku’s thighs. “Does it feel good?”  

“I-It’s...” his tongue was thick in his mouth. He panted, drool dribbling down his chin, and nearly shrieked as Ryuuhou played with a nipple. “Good,” the word tumbled out of his mouth. “It’s good.” 

It wasn't supposed to feel good. 

A low moan rumbled past the older man’s lips. Koujaku stilled, his eyes broadening - something else had gotten inside. Something moist. Something squishy. It was trying to get out.  

“F-Feels weird, I don’t,” he paused, squeezed his eyes shut, and added with a gasp. “I don’t like it.” 

The frequent sound of skin slapping skin pounded in his ear drums. Koujaku thrust back onto Ryuuhou’s length, hoping it would be enough to rid of it. Ryuuhou grabbed his ass, kneading his flesh, and brought Koujaku’s arm to his mouth to sink his teeth into his forearm. The bite was enough to bring him over the edge, his come splurt out in white strings, splattering across his stomach. Groaning in relief, the heat engulfing him had lessened, and the exhaustion of coming washed over him.

He hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep.

Ryuuhou wasn’t in his room - he had no idea where the bastard went, he didn’t care. Sluggishly, Koujaku got to his feet. Something was trickling down his thighs. Puzzled, he swiped his fingers over it, lifting his hands up to inspect the mess. It was white gunk, mixed with red. Panic seized him, he went as fast as he could to his room - it hurt to move, but he kept going, falling onto his knees and vomiting what was left of the snacks Ryuuhou had fed him.

He was disgusting.

Begging for things, asking for things, doing horrible disgusting things.

He wasn’t any better than that bastard.

He was worse.

* * *

Their session started later than usual.  

Koujaku had refused to leave his room. Due to the horrors of last night, he couldn’t sleep. He kept tossing and turning in his futon, the constant throb from his cheeks a painful reminder. His thoughts were constant, a stream of what-if scenarios to prevent what had happened, kept him awake. What little sleep he did manage to get were occupied with dreams of Aoba and the precious times he’d spent with him. Good memories like that were tainted now.  

His dreams became nightmares. One moment, he was pushing Aoba on the swings, the next a fox-like grin wired into his brain. It was all he could see. Ryuuhou’s laughter clogged his ears and a needle pierced into his chest, black ink swirling and seeping into his veins. Every time, Koujaku woke up with tear stained cheeks. He was too terrified of what his subconscious would conjure for him if he dared to enter a dream land.  

Of course, it was his father who forced him to leave the safety of his four walls. Using the one thing that would lure him out every time: his mother. His father didn’t ask or express any concern to why his son, his future heir, was limping. He seized Koujaku by his forearm, dragged him to where Ryuuhou was waiting, and pushed him through the doorway. The push propelled him forward, he stumbled a few steps, and was unable to keep his footing. Koujaku’s chest landed first before the rest of his body followed suit, he let out a pained grunt as his face met the floor.  

Groaning softly, Koujaku picked himself up, and grimaced at the unbearable pain at his backside. Ryuuhou gestured in front of him, wordlessly telling him to lay down next to him. On shaky legs, Koujaku got to his feet, he hesitated, gaze flickering from the older man back to the door. He couldn’t think so selfishly, not when his mother was inadvertently involved, grinding his teeth Koujaku laid down beside him.  

Ryuuhou lightly nudged his kimono so he could have a clear view of his chest. Immediately, Koujaku shoved him away, fixing his kimono himself to have his upper body bare. Chuckling at his actions, Ryuuhou said nothing, a corner of his mouth twitched. With his tool in hand, he began to work on his chest. Koujaku shifted under the needle, uncomfortable from the added pressure to his ass, and the bursts of pain on his abdomen. 

Rather than looking at his so-called canvas, as he so affectionately dubbed Koujaku’s body, Ryuuhou stared at him. A permanent smirk was etched on his lips, there was a sparkle in his eyes - the man was ecstatic about something. Ryuuhou enjoyed his job, more than any human being should, and he looked forward to their sessions together. His eyes were diluted, a flush rose high in his cheeks, and his smirk widened into an impish smile. Even beneath his robe, there was an outline of his bulge. He was imaging taking him again. The man made no efforts to hide it. An evident hunger was written plainly across his face, he’d devour him alive.  

Koujaku turned his head. _This perverted piece of shit!_ His hands balled into fists.  

“Did you have fun last time?” the needle played over his nipple, pressing lightly, teasingly. It hurt. It _hurts_. Tears prickled in Koujaku’s eyes, furiously he scrubbed at them, removing the moisture until his eyes ached with dryness. “I had fun.”  

Black ink seeped onto the sensitive pink nub, the needle dragged over it, coloring carefully and thoroughly. Koujaku sank his teeth into his wrist, muffling his pained moans. He bit further, harder, breaking the skin, but the pain was nothing compared to what Ryuuhou was doing to his body. Ryuuhou brushed his bangs away from his forehead, trailing his fingers along the right side of his face.

“You were so _tight_ , Kou-ja-ku,” Ryuuhou recalled fondly, the emphasis on his name was unnecessary. He didn’t want to Ryuuhou call him by name. He pinched Koujaku’s cheek, nudging his arm down to peer into his eyes. The corner of his eyes crinkled as his smiled. “Maybe I didn’t loosen you well enough, but I couldn’t help myself. You looked like you couldn’t wait. Oh well,” he exhaled, chuckling. “At least you didn’t bleed as much that time.”

Koujaku snatched Ryuuhou’s wrist, the needle pressed a little harder at the jerky gesture, and he flung him off. He winced, whimpering around the flesh in his mouth. Blood trickled onto his tongue, he’d gotten too used to the taste of it by now. Undaunted, Ryuuhou simply held onto Koujaku’s side, steadying him in place as he drew his design.

“You felt so good, looked so good riding me. I’ll have to take you again, again, and again so I can remember it forever,” he sighed wistfully, rolling his needle along his abdomen. His mood appeared to brighten somewhat at the minute tremors Koujaku couldn’t hide. “Next time, I’ll fuck you raw. How does that sound, Kou-ja-ku?”

His name rolled off Ryuuhou’s tongue like a taunt. Aoba held the same tone in his voice whenever he teased him. Koujaku shook his head. He couldn’t think of Aoba. Not now. Not during times like this. It wasn’t right, but the pain lessened somewhat, recalling Aoba’s gentle almost nervous laugh and his shy smile. How he’d naturally slip his hand into his whenever they went from place to place.

Ryuuhou’s voice shook him, roughly snapping him back to reality. There was no Aoba here. Aoba was safe back in Midorijima. Back home.

“You’ll give me everything, until you have nothing left to give,” Ryuuhou said. “Would you like that?” at the end of his inquiry, his voice lowered into a husky snicker. The cool leather of his glove slid down his side. “Ah, I can’t wait.”

Koujaku wished he could simply turn Ryuuhou’s mouth off like a switch. During their sessions, the man would hardly speak to him. He preferred it that way. Everything about Ryuuhou was sickening. He was right from the start. Ryuuhou was a twisted man. A piece of filth. A stain that needed to be removed from this earth.

“Kou-ja-ku.”

He was doing it on purpose. He had to be. This was the third time.

Ryuuhou snickered, his covered fingers pressing over his hips. “You were born for this,” he told him matter-of-factly. “To be inked by me,” he murmured. “To be fucked by me.”

He opened his mouth, forcing his arm away. A shiny trail of saliva broke as he moved his wounded limb. His teeth had done considerable damage to himself. Ryuuhou’s needle was far worse. “Stop,” Koujaku finally spoke. His mouth was dry. “Stop talking.”

“It’s just small talk,” Ryuuhou said. “You don’t have to listen.”

Ryuuhou won’t shut his stupid mouth. He carried on as if Koujaku hadn’t said anything at all, saying what he’d do to him, what he wanted to do, and after everything the needle kept working, marking and cutting into his skin. Koujaku screamed, slamming his palms over his ears, demanding that he stop.

“It’s too late,” he said calmly. “Right when my needle touched your skin, you belonged to me.”

Koujaku’s eyes broadened. That wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. His fingers raked into his hair, his vision blurring with forming tears. “No,” he said. “You’re wrong.”

All Ryuuhou did was laugh.

“You belong to me,” Ryuuhou repeated. “I’ve already ruined you for anyone else.”

During that session, Ryuuhou didn’t do anything to Koujaku. He focused on filling his work. Any touching he did was to shift his body into his desired position while he worked. His mind was like a broken record, replaying Ryuuhou’s words that made it difficult for Koujaku to breathe.

He was ruined.

“We’re almost done,” Ryuuhou announced cheerfully. “I’m sure you’re happy to hear that, _Kou-ja-ku_.”

* * *

“Stay still.” 

“I’m -” Koujaku stopped, his throat ached from keeping back another sob. “I - ah,” he fell forward, trying to get away, but was pushed back. “Hurts,” he whimpered. “It hurts...”

“Don’t talk,” Ryuuhou demanded lightly.

Taking hold of his chin, he moved with fast strokes. It felt like his skin was getting ripped off. His cheek (why did he have to get one on his face?) was sticky - droplets of red dripped (drip, drip, drip) on the floor. Those stains was hard to clean out. He vaguely remembered hearing one of the maids complaining about it. His body ached but he did his best to sit perfectly still. He stared at the puddle forming. If he looked anywhere else, he’d catch Ryuuhou’s gaze.

His jaw throbbed dully. Ryuuhou had struck him when he looked the other way. He’d lowered his guard, after Ryuuhou’s suggestion, he hadn’t thought - only saw red, felt his blood boiling, and his rage building - and knocked him down with a blow to the face. The uppercut was Ryuuhou’s payback for his strike. As he fell to the ground, cradling his jaw and sniffling at the sharp pain from biting down on his tongue, Ryuuhou undressed him. He shushed his cries with shallow pecks to his neck, peppering where he hit him with teeth. His fingers ran along the cleft of his ass, entered him slowly, and stretched him out with spit.

Koujaku had shouted at the intrusion, fought back as hard as he could. Ryuuhou was stronger than he looked, easily overpowered him. Perhaps if he wasn’t weak and drained from the heavy process of their sessions, he would’ve stood a chance.

His pain tolerance hadn’t increased. In fact, it felt as if it had gotten worse. Even the lightest touch singed him as if he passed his hand through a flickering flame. Ryuuhou’s dick pulsed inside him, he thrust shallowly into Koujaku, just barely brushing his prostate. He could tell it took a great deal for Ryuuhou to restrain himself. Placing business before pleasure, Ryuuhou set out to finish his job first, fucking could be saved for later.

He had to sit still. He couldn’t afford to mess up the tattoo.

“Here,” Ryuuhou said, after righting Koujaku on his lap for the umpteenth time. “If it hurts so much, I have something to help with the pain.”

Koujaku turned his head, or tried to desperately, pinching his mouth shut. He wouldn’t fall for something like that again.

“It’s nothing bad,” Ryuuhou said. “This will help you. I promise.”

He hadn’t thought about it.

All he had on his mind was the pain. The pain was horrible. So horrible. He didn’t know how he got through it all without going crazy. If there was the slightest chance Ryuuhou was telling the truth -- that this, even if it was just for a moment, would take the pain away . . . he had to take a chance.

“Good boy,” Ryuuhou petted him as he accepted his gracious gift.

He was numb. He couldn’t feel a thing.

He was wrong.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Why would Ryuuhou do something like that? It wasn’t in his nature. His pain had blinded him. He brought this on himself. 

"Let's make this last," Ryuuhou said. "After all, this will be our last chance together."  

Ryuuhou won’t let him finish. He’d bring him to the brink of orgasm just to curl his finger around his dick in a tight ring. The tattoo was top priority. Koujaku writhed. He can’t handle the tension, the throbbing, the need to get release. Tears split freely down his cheeks. He grasped at Ryuuhou’s wrist, gritting his teeth together. Blood poured into his mouth from how hard he stabbed his teeth into his bottom lip.

Koujaku wasn’t sure how long this went on for.

“Do you want to come?”

He chewed on his lip, failing at distraction himself.

“Do you?”

Sobbing, Koujaku nodded frantically, scratching at the patch of skin above Ryuuhou’s glove. “P-Please,” he cried. “I do, I do. Let me. Please.”

Ryuuhou pulled his dick with quick, precise, pumps. He wouldn’t last any longer. Koujaku wailed as Ryuuhou wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing, halting his climax once again.

“How much do you want it?”

Koujaku begged hysterically. “I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” Ryuuhou beamed. “Oh, you spoil me, Koujaku.”

* * *

It was finally over. The last session had officially ended last night. He’d never see him again.  

Even with that comfort, he couldn’t sleep. He hadn’t been able to sleep in days. It was a chore to get out of bed. Exhaustion caused his eyelids to grow heavy, but he couldn’t let himself fall into his sleeps. He was still there. Waiting for him in his dreams. Aoba was there, too, sitting on the swings, waiting to be pushed and looking up at Koujaku with a warm smile. But Aoba never stayed with him for long.

His fingers dug into his pillowcase. Tonight, he could sleep. There was nothing and no one waiting for him tomorrow. Ryuuhou had left the house. He was sure of it. He’d stayed while he watched the man leave the premises, stepping out of his life forever. Heaving a sigh, Koujaku’s eyes shut and he snuggled into his pillow, bringing his sheets closer to him. Everything would be better once he got some sleep.

“Kou-ja-ku.”

His eyes flew open.

“No,” Koujaku sat up, eyes wide and his lips parted in shock. “You’re not supposed to be here. You _left_. We’re done.”

An amused chuckle came from somewhere within his room. Koujaku’s eyes flickered, trying to pinpoint the origin of the sound. He couldn’t find him. He was in his room somewhere and he needed to find him before -

“I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye.”

Everything was over now.

He was dreaming.

This had to be a dream.

Arms looped around his shoulders. A chin propped on top of his head and something warm and solid pressed against his back. “I came to say goodbye.”

Koujaku pinched his arm. He pinched his face, his inner thigh, he side. He punched his arm, bit at his wrist, chewed the inside of his cheek, and _nothing_ worked. Dream. It had to be a dream. That was the only thing that made sense. But even in his dreams, this man wouldn’t leave him alone. Koujaku opened his mouth, but his pleas were silenced by a hand.

“Now, now,” Ryuuhou shushed him gently. “We can’t have that. This is a special moment for just you and me,” he waited, seconds felt like minutes, and asked. “Are you going to be a good boy?”

Shakily, Koujaku gave a jerky nod.

As Ryuuhou lowered his hand, Koujaku attempted to shout, but it seemed he was easy to read since something was shoved into his mouth. He can’t spit it out, Ryuuhou covered his palm over his lips, pressing firmly and waiting. Koujaku had no choice but to swallow it down. 

“Good boy,” he murmured, lightly caressing his face - slowly, he brushed Koujaku’s hair from his face to press his lips onto his inked skin.  

Despite swallowing, Ryuuhou kept his hand to his mouth. Koujaku’s breathing picked up, he had no idea what Ryuuhou had given him. It was the same drug Ryuuhou had given him the first time. His free hand slithered down his body, sliding underneath his kimono and uses feather light touches to caresses him. Koujaku curls up in himself, but Ryuuhou cupped him over his underwear, squeezing and rolling his dick in his palm. Heat coiled in his stomach, he was already starting to sweat, and his room was becoming a sauna. He whimpered into Ryuuhou’s hand, his body became slack and fell back onto Ryuuhou. His legs dropped, shamelessly and wantonly exposing more of himself.

He grew hard in a matter of seconds, partly thanks to Koujaku’s youth and by the added effects of the drug. Koujaku moaned, thrusting up into Ryuuhou’s fist as he took his length and lazily stroked him. He pushed his hand away as best as he could but it was no use. His slaps missed their target, but he continued to shake him off, and his vision was swimming - he saw doubles and he could no longer tell which was Ryuuhou’s. Every little movement he made was sluggish.

Koujaku was placed so he was flat on his back. Ryuuhou kept going, pre-come dribbling out of his cock made it easier to glide. He writhed, his hips rising up from his futon, from Ryuuhou’s ministrations. It wasn’t enough. Ryuuhou stopped, ignoring Koujaku’s whines, and began to remove his clothes. He took his time, Koujaku wasn’t going anywhere. Like Koujaku, the older man’s body was adorned in tattoos.

Ryuuhou was already hard, he knelt next to Koujaku, plunging his dick into his without warning. Koujaku gagged, bile raised into his mouth and he had to pull away and spat on the floor mats. Ryuuhou waited patiently, watching Koujaku in amusement, before he took his mouth once more.

“Ah, careful,” he instructed Koujaku with the proper techniques to use. “Don’t use so much teeth. You don’t want to hurt me, do you?” 

His eyes watered as the head of his cock bumped into the back of his throat. He gagged around his length, watching with wide terrified eyes, as he thrust in and out of him. Ryuuhou groaned, grabbing the back of his head, and slamming forward.

“Yeah, just like that, that’s good,” Ryuuhou panted encouragingly, digging his nails into Koujaku’s scalp to compliment his praise. “You’re such a fast learner.”

Koujaku gasped as Ryuuhou removed his cock, simply idly nudging his cheek with the side of his dick. Then, in a swift move, Ryuuhou entrapped Koujaku beneath him, trapping him in place with his body. He thrust into Koujaku, without any preparation, immediately starting things at a vicious pace. Ryuuhou’s hands were everywhere. He teased his nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers. He left bite marks and bruises all over his body. He petted his tattoos, admiring his handy work with every violent snap of his hips.

He kept coming even when nothing else would come out.

Koujaku wailed, desperately trying to crawl away, but was lured back.

“No, please,” he begged. “Please stop. I don’t want this. Please. No more.”  

“You’re beautiful, my masterpiece,” Ryuuhou cackled. “Mine. You’re _mine_ , Koujaku.”

“No,” Koujaku shook his head. “No. No. No. You're wrong.”  

“You're so beautiful,” Ryuuhou muttered. “But you’re not complete. So much beauty that needs to be shown. I want to see it.”

Hands settled on his hips, Ryuuhou pounded into him, laughing breathlessly as he fucked into him. Ryuuhou thrust into him one, two, three more times before he stilled, groaning and sighing contently as he climaxed. He stayed inside Koujaku, placing his hands on either side of Koujaku’s head to kiss him deeply. Licking his lips, Ryuuhou finally pulled out, and settled back on his haunches.

“Look at me.”

 Lifelessly, Koujaku obeyed. He didn’t glare. He didn’t glower. He simply looked at him with half-lidded eyes.   

“Are you angry, Koujaku?”

Ryuuhou’s questions hung in the air.

Despite everything, he hadn’t gotten . . . truly angry. No, it was fear that overwhelmed him every time. True, he had gotten mad but never furious. He was repulsed with what he’d become. He couldn’t look his mother in the eye. He wanted nothing more than to cling to her and sob into the comfort of her arms, feeling safe, at home. Instead, he shied away from her touches and assured her time after time that he was fine.

A fury bubbled inside, like a boiling pot spilling over with piping hot water, it burst out of Koujaku - sweeping him up with something his lithe body was unable to contain.

Snarling, Koujaku bared his teeth in a nasty sneer. “I’m going to kill you!” he hissed. “I’m going to murder you!”

“That is what kill means,” Ryuuhou pointed out slightly out of breath.

“Gut you open and spread your entrails,” the images splattered in his mind. It was vivid. Real. His neglected cock twitched at the thought of sinking his nails into Ryuuhou’s stomach and tearing him open. “Splatter your blood on the walls,” he rasped. “Decorate this room with your limbs. Stab your head on a pike. Rip off your dick and feed it to the dogs.”

“Ah, you’re making me excited,” Ryuuhou purred, taking Koujaku in his hand and jerking him off. “Tell me more, Koujaku.”

Koujaku moaned helplessly, he barely lasted and came all over Ryuuhou’s fist. “Die! Die! Die!” 

Ryuuhou considered Koujaku’s words. With a muffled snort, Ryuuhou doubled over in laughter. “How precious,” he said, wiping away the moisture off Koujaku’s face with his thumb. “I’ll be waiting. I like that anger... but don’t get angry.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Koujaku seethed, baring his teeth. 

“I always have so much fun with, Kou-ja-ku,” Ryuuhou stretched his limbs and went to get dressed. “We should do it again sometime! Maybe the next time we see other?”

Right when Ryuuhou turned his back, that would’ve been the perfect time to carry out his words. Koujaku reached an arm out towards him, growling low in his throat - his heart thudded against his rib cage, his pulse was racing, and he had the inexplicable urge to tear him apart.

“Bye, bye, Kou-ja-ku!” Ryuuhou hadn’t turned towards him. He waved over his shoulder. “Remember what I told you!”

* * *

“Koujaku?”

There was someone at the door. Had that bastard come back? Koujaku blinked, staring blearily at the ceiling, he hurt all over. How long had he been laying on the ground?

“... Koujaku?” the knocking became insistent. “Koujaku, are you okay?”

It was Ryuuhou.

Feigning concern so he could do it all over again. He wouldn’t fall for it. Not again.

It was over.

“Koujaku! Please, answer me!”

_Don’t get angry._

Growling, Koujaku stalked over to where he had hidden his father’s sword.

_Kou-ja-ku!_

Red colored the ends of his hair.

He’d never be in pain again.


End file.
